my dinner with andre (dawson)

I’ve been interested in baseball my entire life. Even as a youngster I would mail bubblegum cards to my favorite players and ask them for an autograph and a pocket schedule. Sure, I took some time off from collecting cards and autographs along the way- being distracted by life, school, work and girls. Now, in my “early” 40s, I find myself back on the scene with a vengeance.

I find it difficult to believe that nearly half a year has passed since I last posted an entry about Andre. As you may recall, he had this habit of showing up in Albuquerque once or twice a season to help players in the Florida Marlins organization improve their hitting. On those occasions, the plan was always to try to meet up with Andre after the game had ended, but before he bolted to his car and sped off into the darkness as if in a movie. So I would drop everything- ideally after the third out in the top of the ninth inning, while the Isotopes were celebrating a victory on the infield, and walk around to the player entrance on the outside of the stadium. Here I would wait patiently with card and Sharpie in hand, hoping Andre would appear in a signing mood.

Unfortunately, Andre is a man of very few words. Each time I would have to settle for a gorgeous autograph, and a head nod of acknowledgment, or the rare “You’re welcome.” There never would be MY dinner with Andre.